Reflections
by Adonnen Estenniel
Summary: Five times Galadriel looked into the mirror, and five times she saw death.
1. Foreword

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><p>Today is my birthday, and for that occasion I've written a double-drabble. And because it's so close to Christmas (and because my muse demanded it), I've gone ahead and made it into a five part-series, posting each chapter daily according to word-count. (The first part is a double drabble, the second is 210 words for the 21st, the third 220 words for the 22nd, and so on.)<p>

This will bring me up to Christmas Eve, the 24th. I have a separate piece written as a Christmas gift because I want to offer everyone something that doesn't leave a bad aftertaste (as _Reflections_ no doubt will do so).

—Adonnen

_'Many things I can command the Mirror to reveal,' she answered, 'and to some I can show what they desire to see. But the Mirror will also show things unbidden, and those are often stranger and more profitable than things which we wish to behold. What you will see, if you leave the Mirror free to work, I cannot tell. For it shows things that were, and things that are, things that yet may be. But which it is that he sees, even the wisest cannot always tell.' —The Fellowship of the Ring; 'The Mirror of Galadriel'_


	2. Celebrían

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><p><span>I. Celebrían<span>

The sorceress breathed over the basin and watched the reflection upon the water—

A white boat floated in the center of a calm lake. Little ripples moved across the surface, catching the blaze of Arien's burden. Water shone like brilliant fire in every direction, and the horizon was no more than a blurred line where soundless water met soundless sky.

The scene was tranquil, the boat's slow journey serene. All was peaceful.

Yet the sour tang of a corpse hung over the water, coiling across the lake like a serpent.

Slowly, the boat drew closer.

A woman lay inside, her pale face calm as the still waters. Her slender hands were crossed over her breast, and between them was clasped a green stone. Her silver hair spread beneath her head, but it did not shine, for it was lifeless.

The boat drifted on until it at last faded from view, lost from sight beyond the murky horizon.

—She drew back, and the lake disappeared from view. The reflection wavered then faded. It was no more, but the taste of death lingered on her tongue.

With trembling hands, the sorceress touched her swollen abdomen and felt the spirit that grew within.

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><p><em>Word count: 200<em>

_The "green stone" is the Elessar, which Galadriel would have given to her child; that is how she recognized the dead woman as her daughter._


	3. Finrod

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><p><span>II. Finrod<span>

The sorceress breathed over the basin and watched the reflection upon the water—

Darkness. A lightless void, cold and empty. Damp, fetid air clinging to the skin and invading the spirit.

Fear cleaving to despair, giving birth to something too terrible to name. Growing. Spreading and reaching and filling the darkness.

Slavering. Snarls that echoed in the void, feeding off the darkness. The heavy tread of paws. A growl.

The clank of chains, a whispered oath. Metal rent in two, falling to the floor.

Collision. Two bodies striving against one another in the darkness. A struggle against death.

Animal grunts. Growls and cries of pain. Screaming and screaming without end.

Silence.

Dead wieght falling. Two bodies apart, gasping their last.

A Man's voice, high and frightened. Seeking. An answering gasp, too soft to be heard.

Sobs. Weeping unbroken, resonating in the darkness. Despair and fear everywhere. Relentless night.

A lightless void, filled with the rattling sound of a man's final breath.

—She drew back, the Man's lament still ringing in her ears. The reflection wavered then faded, but her ears still heard. The sorceress knew the voice in the darkness, and she knew what it signified. It had been her brother's death.

Old wounds resurfaced, and the pain was numbing.

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><p><em>Word count: 210<em>


	4. Celeborn

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><p><span>III. Celeborn<span>

The sorceress breathed over the basin and watched the reflection upon the water—

Two armies collided on a field of ash. Cruel voices rose and pitted against each other, discordant in their uncontrolled wrath. The sound of death was defeaning.

Out of the cruel and merciless battle, two warriors rose up and strove against each other. Their faces were alight with battle-fury, and upon their shoulders they carried the burden of expected victory.

The first warrior was no more than a shadow, fleeting and unseeable, yet lit with an evil flame. Malevolent spirits clung to it, and hatred curled from its empty eyes.

The second was a tall man, shining and fair. The light on his face was piercing, and his armor was like the stars.

But the shadow struck him down into the ash, and unleashed its fury upon the brightly-clad warrior.

The end was swift and violent. The tall warrior's eyes went dim, and he was trampled into the ground: one with the ash.

—She drew back, and the battlefield disappeared from view. The reflection wavered then faded. It was no more, but she could not forget the ruthless twist of the shadow's sword as it drove into the shining warrior.

The sorceress closed her eyes, but all she could see was her husband's broken and mangled body.

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><p><em>Word count: 220<em>


	5. Arwen

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><p><span>IV. Arwen<span>

The sorceress breathed over the basin and watched the reflection upon the water—

A dark-robed figure glided through a dim forest. Though she moved with wavering steps, the shadow-clad being seemed determined in her purpose.

The tall trees rustled in a soft wind, and the noise filtered through the close air. Ancient songs of a long-forgotten people echoed, but their meaning was lost to the onward surge of time. All who had once dwelt here had left across the seas. None now remained.

At last, the figure halted at the foot of a hill. A soft, feminine moan issued from the depths of her cowl, and she cast herself down onto the dry brown grass.

Laying on the cold ground, the woman looked up. Her wan face was pinched with strain. The pain of a life lived too long and of a life severed too soon. Her wide gray eyes were feverish and vacant.

The woman's breath came in rasps, slower and slower until it came no more.

—She drew back, and her grand-daughter's weary face disappeared from view. The reflection wavered then faded. It was no more, but there was a cold emptiness where her heart should have been.

Such was the price to be paid, she knew, yet as the sorceress turned away, she could not help hating the Man who would be the cause of such grief.

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><p><em>Word count: 230<em>


	6. Galadriel

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><p><span>V. Galadriel<span>

The sorceress breathed over the basin and watched the reflection upon the water—

She beheld her own face, familiar and comforting. The same tilted nose and finely arched brows. The same smooth hands and wide shoulders. The same eyes, glowing with the Light of the West.

It was she, and yet it was not she.

For when she opened her mouth, darkness spewed out. Evil crawled from between her smiling lips, and she laughed. She laughed and laughed until she had spent herself entirely, until there was no more darkness left to give.

She sank limply to the floor, retching and convulsing. The pure white of her garments became stained with blood and soil, and her shimmering hair became matted.

But even in her weakness, she laughed. Her eyes were empty pools of malice, and her voice roared with fey power. She raised her right fist, adorned with a smooth gold ring, and the world fought to do her bidding.

There was no denying her, and those who thought to do so were relieved of their lives. She was drunk with her own strength, but it was not enough.

She pressed harder, and the ring pressed back.

That was the end.

She lay lifeless on the floor while blood pooled beneath her, and the golden ring with fiery letters laughed.

—She drew back. The reflection wavered then faded. It was no more.

The sorceress fell to the ground and wept.

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><p><em>Word count: 240<em>

_A/N: That's all! Thanks to those who read and especially to those who reviewed. Check back tomorrow for a light-hearted tale featuring Manwë, Varda, and a curious request._


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